


Fancy

by Anathema Device (notowned)



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, Gen, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 01:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notowned/pseuds/Anathema%20Device
Summary: Alone of all their circle, Athos doesn’t own a cat. He will firmly explain to anyone who presses him—not that anyone does anymore—that his ex-wife put anyone off the species for life.





	Fancy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thimblerig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thimblerig/gifts), [TiggyMalvern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiggyMalvern/gifts).



> I recently acquired my first cat in over thirty years. It got me thinking :)
> 
> For Thimblerig, who has been sharing her kitties with me over the internet, and giving me much comfort thereby, and for Tiggy, who has shared her cats and friendship and her veterinary knowledge with me for nearly twenty years.

Alone of all their circle, Athos doesn’t own a cat. He will firmly explain to anyone who presses him—not that anyone does anymore—that his ex-wife put anyone off the species for life.

Also he’s allergic. And objects to pets in principle. He doesn’t like dominating anyone or anything.

His friends shrug and wish he would unbend a little. After all, their cats have brought them a lot of happiness over their lifetimes.

Porthos has a huge, scarred three-legged tom that Aramis had asked him to take because the cat will be hard to rehome. Tripod snarls and hisses at anyone but Porthos, who can pick him up and sling him around his shoulders, walk around the house all day like that, and Tripod will purr and not move a muscle.

D’Artagnan has a green-eyed white purebred Persian that he gave Constance as a birthday present not long after they started dating. After she scolded him for not getting a rescue animal, it turned out that the cat hated women and scratched Constance so badly she had to go to the emergency room for treatment.

It lives with d’Artagnan now, and is locked away when Constance visits. He called it Milady, and is looking for a new home for it.

To celebrate her divorce Constance acquired two sister tabbies, eight years old, and just starting to slow down. They live indoors and spend most of their days curled around each other in puddles of sunshine. Once Milady is rehomed, d’Artagnan will move in with them all.

Ana has a pretty blind ginger cat that Aramis persuaded her to take as a foster, and she ended up keeping. Louise spends much of the day in her lap, or lying on a cushion on Ana’s desk while she works.

Aramis has four spayed female cats, all named after former girlfriends, and half a dozen foster kittens at any given time. His entire backyard has been surrendered to cat runs, and he has more cat trees than chairs. Visitors have grown used to being implored to give another cat a home. He has worked at a cat refuge for ten years and still cries in the loo over the ones they can’t save.

Treville is the vet at the refuge. He doesn’t have a permanent cat, just an endless rotation of fosters and injured kittens to which he gives his skill and his heart.

Athos’s friends all have cats, and they all love their animals. Athos loves his friends, but refuses to talk about their pets, or to pet sit, or to visit their homes to admire their kitties.

His ex-wife had a dog, a Malamute, which Athos didn’t much care for, but from which Anne could not bear to be separated, so he accepted it as part of her life.

His parents had cats, two elderly torties that were kittens when Thomas was born. His parents were polite enough to keep them inside when Anne and Athos visited and her malamute ran about the grounds of the estate. Thomas loved the cats, and had been their prime carer as soon as he was old enough to take it on. He also liked Anne’s dog, for all its bad behaviour. He just loved animals and wanted to be a vet when he grew up.

He never got to grow up.

Five years ago, while Athos and Anne were staying with his parents, one of the cats got out of the house and into the garden. Anne’s dog spotted it and went for it. Thomas managed to save the cat from the dog’s jaws, but then the animal turned on him.

Thomas died later in hospital.

The dog was seized and should have been put down, but Anne hired a top lawyer to argue that Thomas had provoked the animal, and that it wasn’t dangerous. She won the case, and refused to rehome the animal or even train it.

Athos told her she would have to choose between him or the dog. She left him the same day.

She still owns the dog. He’s seen her walking it a couple of times.

He can’t bear the idea of owning a pet ever again.

So, as he puts a bowl of dry food down for the little grey ghost of a kitten that hides in his garden, he very firmly tells himself that he does not _own_ this feral animal. He is merely assisting it to own itself.

And the big homeless tomcat he found with a shattered leg from being hit by a car, and took to Aramis’s refuge to be mended, could not live with him. Athos paid the vet bills, made a large donation to pay for its continued upkeep at Aramis’s refuge, and suggested, finally, to Aramis that maybe Porthos might be the perfect owner. But the idea of letting the creature come to his house was not to be contemplated.

The black kitten who wandered into his living room and sat on his armchair, purring and kneading at him when he picked it up to remove him from his seat, is not his property. He paid for it to be desexed and vaccinated, and gave it a warm box with soft blankets to sleep in as he recovered. He religiously applies anti-flea and worming treatment, feeds it premium cat food, and grooms it carefully every night as it sits on his lap. But it is not his cat. He refuses to name it or call it to him. If it hangs around, that’s its choice.

He comes home one night and finds another black cat, this time drenched and shivering, on his doorstep. The kitten sniffs and twines around his legs as he dries the new arrival off, giving her some food and water, and examining the collar which, miraculously, has a phone number on it.

He calls it, and a husky-voiced woman answers. “Hello, have you lost a cat?”

“Clementine! Where is she? She got out during the storm and I’ve been looking everywhere!”

He gives her the address to come and collect the animal, then eats a supper while the two cats sit on the kitten’s bed and groom each other.

An hour later, the doorbell rings, and he goes to the door, opens it to find an attractive, big-eyed black woman with _amazing_ hair and a pet carrier. “I’m Sylvie. For Clementine?”

He shows her into the living room, and indicates the pair of cats on the cat bed. “Clem?” she calls.

The older cat mraouws brightly and runs to her. Sylvie scoops her up and holds her close, nuzzling her fur. “Oh my God. I thought I’d lost you for good. Thank you, _monsieur_ , for saving her.”

Athos shrugs and manages to indicate, without words, how minimal his contribution to Clementine’s survival had been.

Sylvie is in no hurry to put Clementine in the carrier, and instead wants to admire the kitten. “Oh, he’s lovely. What’s his name?”

“I don’t know.”

Sylvie gives him a curious look. “Another stray?”

“Yes.”

Sylvie looks around the room, at the cat bed, the toys, the litter tray, and the kitten itself now on Athos’s shoulder, having jumped up from the sofa with easy familiarity. “You have another cat then?”

“I don’t own any cats, madame.”

“Well, no, of course. We don’t own cats. They own us.” She kisses the top of Clementine’s head. “I’m just down the street. Perhaps you’d like to come visit us when Clem’s settled back home?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t like cats. I’m allergic.”

Sylvie stares at him, the kitten on his shoulder, and grins. The grin slowly fades as she realises he’s serious. She puts her cat in the carrier, and picks it up. “Ah. Well, again, thank you from Clem even if you don’t like her.”

Athos nods, and follows her to the door, the kitten still in his arms. Sylvie walks out, but turns as he’s about to go back inside. “Roger.”

“Pardon?”

“Roger. He looks like a Roger. You could call him that.”

Athos stares and says nothing. Sylvie smiles, waves, and walks on.

Athos goes back into his house, and puts the kitten on the ground. It stares up at him, begging Athos to pick him up again.

Which he does, with a sigh. “Roger, eh? I suppose it’s better than ‘cat’.”

‘Roger’ begins to purr and knead his arm.

Tomorrow, when Sylvie calls around with a cake to thank him properly, he will invite her in, and tell her that the name is acceptable. He will explain why he doesn’t want to own a cat, and she will listen sympathetically. He will learn that she knows Aramis and that Clementine came from that refuge, and that Roger and Clem might even be related.

He will find himself talking about the cats he grew up with, and how much he still misses Thomas. Sylvie will talk about her recently deceased father, and how Clem had saved her from wallowing in grief.

They will talk until dark, and he will find himself inviting her to stay for supper. She will accept.

The day after he will make an appointment with the vet to get Roger microchipped, and to be registered as his human. He will also call Aramis and ask him for help in catching the little grey feral, so it can be checked, desexed, and if possible, found a home.

He will buy Roger a collar, and put his phone number on it.

He will send Sylvie a text and invites her to bring Clem along when she comes over next time. Roger likes Clem, and it’s always good to have friends around.

**Author's Note:**

> The French ([and Europe generally](https://healthypets.mercola.com/sites/healthypets/archive/2011/09/06/one-two-possible-reasons-dogs-live-longer-in-europe.aspx)) do not like to desex their pets, and the French are potty in [good](https://www.news.com.au/lifestyle/home/pets/why-a-dogs-life-in-paris-beats-australia/news-story/bad977b622d373fd94f1592a0acbe409) and [bad ways](https://www.telegraph.co.uk/expat/expatlife/8615195/The-good-life-or-a-dogs-life-The-great-division-in-France.html) about dogs in general.


End file.
